


In Sickness and in Health

by Myrime



Series: Forever Yours [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Don't copy to another site, Drunken Flirting, Humor, Idiots in Love, Las Vegas, Love at First Sight, M/M, Marriage, Meet-Cute, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 18:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20295859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrime/pseuds/Myrime
Summary: Steve is drunk and falls in love head over heels with Tony. Marriage is the logical next step. Now, if only the wedding night would never end so they won't have to wake up.





	In Sickness and in Health

**Author's Note:**

> Another entry for the [Iron Man Bingo 2019 Round 2](https://iron-man-bingo.tumblr.com/), square: Stony Accidental Marriage. 
> 
> This is a prequel/companion piece to [Till Death Do Us Part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14229585/chapters/32807262).  
Enjoy!

Steve is drunk. The feeling is all the more exhilarating for how seldom it happens. He does not drink, usually, not enough to make his steps unsteady and his vision wonky. He is sensible. Most often, he volunteers to be the designated driver and everybody is happy to leave him to his sorry sober state to go and have fun themselves. They are in Las Vegas, though, and do not have a car with them. They left that at home right along with all their common sense.

“We need to celebrate,” Bucky had said, one arm around Steve’s shoulders and a wicked grin on his face, already planning their downfall.

“And you’re going to buy all our drinks,” Clint had added, not one to let these opportunities pass by unused, “since you’re going to be all famous and rich soon.”

“There’s not going to be so many drinks,” Steve had answered, but was too busy hiding his blush to properly chide them.

He is not going to be famous. Just because one gallery decided to put some of his pictures up for their next exhibition does not mean that their frugal life is over. Somewhere around the fourth drink, though, Steve begins to believe his friends that it might. Slowly, he stops worrying about the bills he needs to pay and the paintings he has to finish and the two jobs he has to struggle.

Being drunk pushes all of that away, wrapping him in a comfortable bubble where he is not afraid of anything. Not of failure, not of success, not of his art being out there for anyone to see.

The music seems to seep right into his bones, making his limbs move out of their own volition. He dances and laughs and drinks anything his friends put into his hands. They are here to look after him. He is safe.

The club is a dump. The lights are low. There are too many people crowding the dancing floor. Steve is sure no one here has ever even heard about fire safety regulations. Nobody cares either. And the more he loses himself in the feeling of being alive, the less Steve cares about that too.

Midnight must have long come and gone, but time does not matter here. Steve’s friends are somewhere. They loosely orbit each other in the club, meeting up every now and then only to disappear into the crowds again. Still, Steve is not afraid of losing them. Not here. Not with how pleasantly removed he feels from all his fears.

The sight of the man in the middle of the dance floor hits him like bludgeoning hammer right to the chest. All the lights and music and energy of the club seems to pale compared to this one man’s grace. He is short but appears larger than life. His skin is glowing under the artificial light. His hands, weaving through the air, are calling for Steve to come closer. And Steve, uninhibited by his usual reservations about strangers, feels himself drawn in.

His steps are not quite steady anymore, but he walks towards the man as if he holds his salvation, dodging bodies, eyes fixed on his target. From up close, the man is even more beautiful. Dark eyes, bright smile framed by an elaborate goatee. Steve’s fingers itch to draw him, to catch the swirl of pure energy around him. 

The man does not stop his movements when he notices Steve’s stare, but his smile widens, gets a bit cocky. It is a challenge. Tonight, Steve feels like he could meet any challenge thrown at him.

“I like the way you dance. The colours all swirl around you,” Steve tells the man and reaches out with his hand, hoping to catch some of that brilliance for himself. “Wanna teach me?”

“Only if you catch me if I fall,” the man answers. There is something like humour in his voice but Steve nods, entirely honest. He is not the best at saving people but that does not mean he will stop trying.

He never notices the man move, but then their hands are intertwined and Steve is pulled close enough to the man to steal his breath.

They dance. Hours seem to fly by in which the lights never dim and the music never stops pushing their heartbeat to go faster. All of it seems to seep right into Steve’s skin and then push out in waves, pulling him this way and that. They share some drinks but Steve is not drunk on alcohol anymore but on the exhilarating feeling of sharing space with this man – _Tony_, as he had whispered into Steve’s ear.

If Steve were sober, he would never manage to move this way, but here and now it is the most natural thing in the world. Tony and he circle each other in perfect synchronicity.

They gather an audience at some point, pulling the entire club into their orbit. Steve is not sure whether his friends are still there, but they told him to live a little, to have fun. He is sure he has never been more alive than here, in Tony’s arms.

“You are perfect,” Tony tells him when they take a break at the bar, clutching a drink in one hand and Steve’s arm in the other.

“We should marry,” Steve exclaims, nodding with more enthusiasm than he has been able to muster for anything in a long time. “You and I. So nothing will ever separate us again.”

They are so close, Steve does not think anything _could_ come between them. Still, it is the best idea he has ever had. Better than going out in the first place. Better than letting Tony pull him on the dance floor. Eternity should frighten Steve, but Tony is so bright next to him that he thinks he will never be afraid of anything again.

“That’s a great idea,” Tony hums, leaning even closer. “Then you can show me what else you can do with those hands.”

Their hands are intertwined again, and Steve thinks about paint, about having to touch every inch of Tony’s skin to be able to copy it on paper. Then he thinks about tracing Tony’s lips, about kissing.

“But where?” Steve asks with sudden desperation. He does not want anything to come between him and Tony.

“This is Vegas, hon,” Tony says, his voice alone is enough to soothe Steve. “Everything is either a chapel or a casino. Some are both.” He lets go of Steve to get a wallet out of his jacket and puts some bills on the bar. Before Steve knows it, Tony is touching him again. “Come on, practice your vows. I’m getting us a cab.”

They end up in a cab with two strangers. “Witnesses,” Tony tells him and Steve is glad that he has Tony to remember these things. He briefly wonders whether he should not tell his friends that he is all right, ask them to come to the most important night of his life. He has not seen them in a while, though, his eyes too fixed on Tony. They can have a proper celebration afterwards.

The cab driver lets them out at the first chapel he finds. It is a small thing, drab and dark, not at all a place Steve ever imagined himself marrying in. As soon as Tony steps into it, it begins to glow, however, made holy by his presence alone.

Someone gets them a priest, who appears tired but not surprised. He looks at them strangely but smiles back at Steve. Happiness is infectious, after all.

The ceremony itself is over very quickly. Steve can barely remember what they said or did, too mesmerized by Tony. By his smile and his hands and the way he holds himself. Tony’s hands are beautiful, more so even than his eyes. Calloused and scarred and yet so very careful, so very sure about every movement they make. Steve could watch them for hours and never get bored. 

“You can now kiss,” Steve hears the priest say through his daze.

He looks at Tony and knows that Tony is only looking at him too. Without a word, they are leaning closer, melting into each other’s warmth, their heartbeats mingling.

When their lips touch, the world feels right for the first time in years. All of Steve’s worries and problems fall away as he lives only in this moment. He wishes it would never end. Tony tastes of excitement, the fulfilment of dreams.

When they break apart, Steve feels like Tony is taking a part of him with him.

“We should have our wedding night now,” Tony says. They are still so close that it feels like they are one. “Like, right now.”

When Steve looks up, the priest is gone and their two witnesses are making out on one of the benches. It is almost like only Tony and he are left in the world, and Steve would not mind it at all if that were the truth.

“We’re in a chapel,” Steve points out miserably, even though a voice in the back of his mind says that this is not exactly a refusal.

“It’s more like the backstage room of a seedy bar,” Tony protests, his gaze full of intensity. “We’re surely not the first.”

Steve snorts, fighting the need to get his hands all over Tony _right now_. “But we deserve better,” he argues, sounding not so sure about that himself. “We need to dance and we can only do that in a bed.”

For a moment, Steve is afraid his words will not make sense for Tony, but Tony only nods like that is exactly what he thought too.

“I have a bed,” Tony says, full of eagerness. “Let’s see whether that cab is still waiting.”

The cab is not, in fact, still waiting, but they simply hold onto each other’s hands and start walking. The whole world feels so small now that they are together to fill it. The walk is exhilaratingly liberating. They talk and they dance right there on the sidewalk, and when the light behind Tony’s movements fades a bit, they get a new bottle of something that burns as it slides down Steve’s throat.

He has not felt this weightless in years. Also, he has a husband now to make life easier. In sickness and in health.

By the time they reach the hotel, they cannot keep their hands off each other. Tony’s lips are so insistent that they barely make it to the elevator. From there, Steve cannot say at all how they make it to Tony’s room.

He is glad they did, though, because Tony’s bed is huge and soft and when Steve lets himself fall onto the mattress, he whoops when he is thrown up into the air again.

“This is amazing,” Steve says, full of bliss. “Come try it.”

Tony stands at the end of the bed, looking down at him with a smile that Steve knows only too well. It is the kind that questions how he got so lucky to end up here. It is the kind that speaks of the sheer happiness to be alive in this moment. He cannot believe someone is looking at him like that.

“If you think that is amazing, tonight will blow your mind.”

Steve nods, slightly impatient. Everything Tony does will be amazing. He rocks on the bed. “Let me blow yours first.”

When his own words register, Steve dissolves into giggles and then outright laughter when he sees Tony’s baffled face.

“Come on,” he beckons, “I don’t make empty promises.”

Without any hesitation, Tony lets himself fall right into Steve’s arms. Together they bounce a bit, laughing louder.

“You’re perfect,” Tony hums, snuggling deeper into Steve’s embrace. “Let’s marry.”

“We already did that, husband,” Steve says. “Now, stop talking before our wedding night is over.”

In response, Tony places a trail of kisses up Steve’s neck and over his jaw to his lips. Each one makes the fire inside Steve grow, makes his more sure that he has made the best decision of his life tonight.

“Let’s never wake up,” Tony whisper against Steve’s lips. “Real life is so exhausting.”

Tony sounds tired and Steve cannot have that. They are supposed to be happy forever. “I have a better plan,” he says with all the determination he can muster, “let’s just not sleep. Then we don’t have to worry about waking up.”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Tony hovers over Steve and looks down at him. The smile is back on his face and that is, once again, the only thing that counts in the world, leaving no place for worry.

“Deal,” Tony says.

They kiss, and Steve has never been more excited for forever to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know how much of a disaster their honeymoon will be, read [Till Death Do Us Part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14229585/chapters/32807262).
> 
> I also am still working on a sequel for it!  
Thank you for reading!


End file.
